Only that isn’t how it went down. Nope. Not by a long shot. I snuck back into the room, and he lazily blinked himself awake and promptly asked, “What’re you doing in here, Small Fry? Did Nate send you to wake me up? Lazy fucker couldn’t even do it himself.” She smiles a sleepy smile, his eyes roving over my body. “Hey, is that my shirt?”
In that moment, my heart shattered. He truly had no clue.
With my tears threatening to spill, I shook my head and dashed from the room, leaving him to his hungover ramblings.
I shake off the memory of that painful morning and snatch a two-pack box from the shelf and head to the front of the store. At the cash register, the clerk shoots me these knowing looks, and I want so badly to scream that these tests aren’t for me, but that will only reassure her that they most certainly are mine.
As soon as she tells me the total, I slap down some cash, snatch my bag and dash out of the store—leaving my change and receipt behind.
All too soon, I’m home and pulling into my driveway. Luckily, I have the house to myself. My parents are at work, and Nate and Alden left the very same morning he unwittingly broke my heart to head back to college, to start his junior year.
I debate calling Alyssa, my bestie, and asking her to come over for moral support, but I don’t. I think this is something I need to do on my own. After all, if I’m going to be a mother—a freaking teenaged mother—then I need to be strong and independent.
I rip open the box and remove the foil-wrapped stick, placing it on the countertop. After reading the pamphlet front and back, I take the test, cap it, and place it on the counter to wait.
With three minutes to kill, I set a timer and scroll through social media. Bored with Facebook, I switch to Snapchat. The very first snap I see is from my brother. I open it and immediately regret it. On my screen is a short video loop of Alden and some random coed grinding on each other at a party.
My heart seizes painfully in my chest. And like a glutton for punishment, I switch back to Facebook and go to his profile. Right there, in bold, blue, soul-shattering letters, it says: In a relationship with Mia Collins. I stare at those six stupid words until my vision blurs with tears.
Finally, the sound of my alarm chiming breaks the spell. I close out of the app and steel my resolve. Whatever that test says, it’s going to be okay.
Maybe.
I think.
I inhale a deep breath and release it, dropping my eyes to the pregnancy test on the counter.
Two pink lines.
Fuck.
2
Natalie
It’s been a week since I found out I’m going to be a mother. Seven days since I became aware that I’m growing a life inside of me. One hundred and sixty-eight hours since I sat shell-shocked on the bathroom floor, clutching that stupid little stick to my chest, wondering why me. My salty tears were a confusing mix of emotions…
Sadness, for the loss of my youth.
Happiness, because I know that I’m going to be an amazing mom, because I learned from the best.
Fear, for all of the changes coming my way. Will I be able to finish high school? Will my friends stand by me? Will my parents still love me?
And anguish, because how in the hell am I supposed to explain this to Alden? Hey, you don’t remember this at all, but you took my virginity, and it was awesome, for me at least, and now we’re gonna have a kid, so I hope your stupid girlfriend is down with being a stepmom! Yeah…I think not.
The thought of telling him is daunting. So much so, it makes telling my parents seem like a cakewalk instead of the death march it should be. Or at least that’s what I’m trying to convince myself as I walk down the stairs to face them.
They’re in the kitchen when I find them. My mom is standing at the stove, minding her sauce pot. Dad is at the island chopping veggies with chef-like precision.
My dad notices me first. “Why the long face, Nat bug?”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “Uh. Well. I was hoping we could talk.”
At my worried tone, my mom turns to face me, giving me her full attention; Dad looks my way but keeps chopping.
“What’s wrong, Natalie?” Mom asks, motherly concern lacing her tone. I wonder if I’ll sound like her when I talk to my kid?
“Maybe y’all should have a seat?” I scrunch up my nose. Why did I say that?
Mom walks over closer to me and wraps me in her arms. “Talk to us, sweet girl. You know we’re here for you.”
Deciding the Band-Aid approach is the best way to go, I blurt it out. “I’m pregnant!”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, my dad shouts, “Fuck! Goddamn it!” Apparently, my news caused him to miss the carrot and slice his thumb instead.
He should have sat down like I said.
“Oh, m-my God! Dad are you oh-okay?” I ask, my voice wobbly and tears streaming down my cheeks.
He grunts out some unintelligible reply and turns away from me.
Mom releases me from her embrace and passes him a dishtowel. He wraps it around his thumb, applying pressure. “Do you need stitches?” she asks.
Another grunt.
Taking my own earlier advice, I plop down onto a bar stool, tucking myself out of the way while Mom administers first aid to Dad. Good thing she’s a nurse, I guess.
My eyes stay on my parents while my mom works, but I’m not paying attention to them—not really. My mind is racing a million miles a minute. I can’t help but feel like I’ve let them down…like I’m a failure and a disappointment.
Before I know it, my silent tears have turned to gut-wrenching sobs. I know they say a parent’s love is unconditional, but how could they possibly still love me?
How could anyone?
I’m so lost in my own mind I don’t even notice that my parents have moved until I feel both of them wrapping me in their arms. Their comfort only makes me cry harder, because I know I don’t deserve it.
3
Natalie
“Oh, honey,” Mom whispers brokenly into my hair, her voice clogged with emotion. “Let’s go sit and talk.”
I nod and they step back. In the family room, I claim the loveseat while my parents sit across from me on the couch. I can tell my dad is furious from the way his jaw is ticking and how he keeps clenching and unclenching his fists.
My dad is the first to speak. His tone is shockingly calm. “Nat bug, how did this happen?” I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off. The calm has worn off. “How the fuck did this happen? Your mother and I have provided for your every need, and this is how you thank us? By getting knocked up before you’re even out of damn high school?” His face is an angry shade of red, and spittle flies from his lips as he yells at me.
Unable to take any more, I draw my knees to my chest and drop my head onto them, letting my hair fall forward like a curtain.
Taking note of me folding in on myself, Dad softens his tone…a little. “Are you sure you’re even pregnant? Like one-hundred-percent positive? Who is the father? Why didn’t you use protection? How could you be so…”
That cakewalk I mentioned early? Yeah, not so much. His rapid-fire questions make my chest feel tight, like an elephant is sitting on me, its weight slowly pressing the air from the lungs.